


Twenty-Five Messages to Christmas

by TeamHPForever



Series: Twenty-Five [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, past canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 09:29:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2846177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamHPForever/pseuds/TeamHPForever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nico joins a Tumblr edition of Secret Santa and soon finds himself caught up in the messages from a mystery sender.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twenty-Five Messages to Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by [this Tumblr post](http://goldensparrows.tumblr.com/post/101620512818/tumblr-secret-santa-reblog-this-and-by-december).

It’s November 13th when Nico sees the words “Tumblr Secret Santa” sprawled across his dash. He pauses in his scrolling, skimming over the paragraph about getting a name and sending happy messages until Christmas.

It sounds nice. He’s never been one to get many asks and he’s sure there are other people that are the same way. He hits reblog and forgets all about it.

**December 1**

Until he opens up Tumblr at the breakfast table to see a bright red “1” next to messages. He opens it up, expecting to see an URL.

Instead there’s an anonymous message. Maybe he’ll get his later, or maybe his reblog got lost in the masses.

Nico can’t really bring himself to mind if that’s true. He has no idea where he would even start to write messages to someone that he doesn’t know. In the meantime…

_Hey man,_

_We’ve never spoken before but angelsinthedark is a great url. I hope you had a good Thanksgiving…unless you live somewhere else and then I guess I hope you had a good November 27th. Does this sound stupid?_

Nico shakes his head, a smile rising on his face. He clicks over to his little bio paragraph and adds one word: “Virginia.”

He checks his inbox a few times over the rest of the day, but he doesn’t get another message. He thinks about posting a reply, adding _This doesn’t sound stupid,_ but he doesn’t.

There’s just something about this whole thing that he wants to keep for himself.

**December 2**

There’s another message for Nico when he wakes up the next day, but it’s something else from his Secret Santa. Nico shakes his head and writes it off as a lost cause. He feels almost guilty, accepting messages and not sending any in return, but he opens his inbox anyway.

_Virginia, huh? I’ve never been there, but I live in South Carolina. Am I allowed to say that? Eh, I don’t care._

_I’m sorry that you don’t feel like anyone includes you. That’s always a horrible place to be in. When you feel like someone doesn’t need you as much as you need them. I hope that you meet people that love you for who you are. Know that you will always have friends here._

Nico swallows hard, staring at the words. He didn’t think anyone ever read his personal posts. Writing them was a bit like just shouting into the dark. It made him feel better but he never expected a response.

He opens a text post and adds two words: “thank you.” It doesn’t get any notes, but somehow he knows that it’s being read.

**December 3**

Nico launches himself out of bed half an hour after his alarm was supposed to go off. He skips the shower, rushes through getting dressed, and snatches half a bagel on his way out the door.

He spares a thought for his Secret Santa as he starts up the car. Any messages are just going to have to wait.

_It’s kind of weird, writing these without knowing when they’re going to be read. I don’t know if I should say “have a good day” or “I hope you had a good day.” I mean it either way. If you don’t/didn’t, then just remember that it’s Wednesday and there are only two more days left until the weekend._

_It’s sunny today. It only rained for a few days but it felt like years. I’m going to go outside after school and just sit in the sun for a while. You should try it, if it’s nice in Virginia. I don’t know about you but I find it relaxing._

Nico shakes his head. He’s always preferred the dark, but he still finds himself gathering up his laptop and going out to sit on the patio. His dad finds him still there at dinner time. He raises a questioning eyebrow but doesn’t say anything.

Nico doesn’t offer an explanation. Just goes back to staring at the anonymous messages instead of working on his history paper.

He’s never really understood the selfie craze, but he takes a picture of his laptop on the table with his yard spanning the background and posts it. The only tag is “afternoon in the sun.”

**December 4**

Nico checks his inbox over breakfast the next morning, but it’s empty. There isn’t anything when he gets home from school, after his homework is done, after dinner, or when he checks one last time before he goes to bed.

He can’t help but feel like he’s missed out on an essential part of his daily routine, like forgetting to brush his teeth. It’s crazy because it’s only been a few days and it’s not like the messages really mean anything.

The guy—Nico doesn’t know why he’s so convinced that the sender is male—probably just missed a day. Maybe he got bored with the whole thing.

Nico slams his laptop shut with a little too much force. He’s being ridiculous.

**December 5**

Nico doesn’t even bother opening Tumblr until after he’s back from school on Friday. He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t have time but the truth is he doesn’t want to face that disappointment a second time.

There are two messages. He scrolls to the second one first.

_It’s 12:01am as I’m hitting send on this. I was volunteering at the hospital and my shift ran late. Good night, angel._

Nico stares at “angel” until he feels like his eyes are going to burn holes in his screen. It has to just be a reference to his url so why does it feel like something more.

_Happy Friday! Only a few more of these until Christmas break. I don’t know about you but I seriously can’t wait. These chemistry classes are killing me. But that’s not a very happy message. I’m honored that you took my advice to enjoy the sun. That looks like a beautiful patio. Now I hope you go and have a spectacular Friday._

Nico glances at his bag, thinking about all the homework in it. He doesn’t have that much. It can wait until tomorrow.

Homework doesn’t make for a spectacular Friday. He reaches under his bed, pulling out a dusty shoe box of Mythomagic cards.

**December 6**

Nico bides his time working on his homework and then playing video games. He can hear his dad banging around the house, unusual given his work as a coroner usually has him gone at all hours, but Nico doesn’t go to investigate. The message takes a while to show up, but it seems his Secret Santa made it extra long to make up for the delay.

_I went to volunteer at the hospital again today. Got to watch a six-year-old girl go home after heart surgery. Her prognosis is good. Her dad left her room and cried in the hallway. If there is anything that I’ve learned today, it’s to value the days that you have._

Nico sits back hard against the bed, glancing over at the TV where it’s paused in the middle of _Fable III._ He turns it off and steps into his shoes.

Their neighborhood is a nice one, busy but clean. Nico walks down the sidewalks, not bothering to put in earbuds like he usually would.

His ears catch snippets of conversation around him. The possibility of a white Christmas. A woman wondering whether she should bring her new boyfriend to Christmas dinner. A group of boys debating between the bowling alley or the arcade.

Nico takes it all in and just keeps walking.

**December 7**

The smell of pancakes drags Nico out of bed the next morning. He follows the scent down to the kitchen, where his dad wordlessly sets a stack of them on the table.

Nico knows that he should say thanks. Should make a comment about how amazing they look. But all he can think about is his mom making pancakes every Sunday morning.

He sits down at the table and drowns them in syrup. When his dad turns back to the pan, Nico slips his phone out of his pocket and takes a picture. It only takes a second to upload.

By the time Nico finishes breakfast the post has twenty notes and there’s a message in his inbox.

_Those pancakes look amazing. Can I come over for breakfast? No, seriously. I’m having toast for breakfast and it’s just really disappointing. I hope the rest of your day is as delicious and drowning in sugar as those pancakes look to be._

The rest of the day is pretty average—an hour of studying for a math test, his dad asking him to tag along to the grocery store, deleting spam emails from various colleges trying to encourage him to apply. The message never fails to crack a smile on his face every time he thinks of it, though.

**December 8**

Nico pushes his alarm onto the floor when it goes off the next morning. Only two more weeks until break. He can totally make it.

_Monday mornings shouldn’t be a thing. Nobody likes Mondays. Then I suppose if Mondays were to be abolished, Tuesdays would just end up being the new Mondays. Like “orange is the new black.” What does that even mean? Not the TV show, I know what that means. I’m rambling now, but I don’t really know what to say._

_I hope your Monday is quick and painless._

Nico drags himself out of the house and to the car. If he’s going to school then he might as well get it over with.

His third hour gives the whole class a pop quiz and it’s all downhill from there. He says just that when he pulls up Tumblr that night.

**December 9**

A snowstorm dumps a couple inches of snow on everything. Nico wrinkles his nose as he brushes off his car and hits the road ten minutes earlier than normal.

There’s a car in the ditch, a guy standing next to it talking on his phone. Nico drives by, shaking his head.

The snow has all melted by the time Nico leaves school that afternoon. The water soaks through his shoes and by the time he gets home all he wants to do is crawl into bed and stay there.

_I heard Virginia got snow last night. I don’t know if you’re included in that, but if you are stay safe. I assume it’s all melted by now but if not go make some snowballs and throw them at something._

Nico looks out the window at the browning grass and feels a strange surge of disappointment.

**December 10**

“I’m working late tonight,” Nico’s dad tells him in the morning. “Don’t wait up for me.”

“Sure,” Nico says, even though he never does. Hasn’t in years. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Take out the trash,” he replies and then he’s gone. Nico finishes off the rest of his bowl of cereal in silence and goes to school.

The house is dark and silent when he comes home that afternoon. It’s too big and empty for the two of them, but Nico would never dare suggest selling. It’s their home and there are far too many memories.

Nico settles himself down at the kitchen table with his laptop.

_You’ve got to dance like there’s nobody watching,_

_Love like you’ll never be hurt,_

_Sing like there’s nobody listening,_

_And live like it’s heaven on earth._

_\- William Purkey_

Nico stares at the quote for a minute before closing out of Tumblr. He puts on some music and opens up his binder to work on some math homework.

He’s only a few problems in when he catches his head bobbing to the beat.

 _Dance like there’s nobody watching._ He’s home alone. There really isn’t anyone watching. Nico’s never been one for dancing, but he stands up and lets his feet carry him across the wood floor.

His study music isn’t really suitable so he flips over to something more upbeat, closes his eyes, and pretends he’s somewhere else.

**December 11**

Nico isn’t surprised when his inbox stays empty for the whole day. The sender is probably just volunteering at the hospital again.

It makes him feel guilty for wishing that he could take a few minutes away just to send him a message. Nico doesn’t know what happened but the messages have quickly become the highlight of his day.

The thing that wakes him up when he reads them over breakfast, or cheers him up after school. The weird flutters he gets whenever he sees that “1” seem so similar to the ones that he gets whenever he sees Percy.

Sometimes they run into each other around town, when Percy’s home from college for the weekend or holidays. Nico’s in love with him, even if he knows that it would never work.

Percy is going to marry Annabeth. Everyone knows that.

Nico doesn’t have feelings for the sender. He can’t even be sure it’s a guy.

His heart skips a beat when, just before midnight, a message arrives. It’s only three words: _Good night, angel._ Nico knows that he’s a goner.

**December 12**

“ _Having feelings for someone that you’ve never even met.”_ Below the text is a weird animation gif that, for some reason, relates to Nico’s feelings perfectly.

Nico hits reblog without even thinking about it and then panics, wondering if the mystery sender might see it. He goes to delete the post and then decides to leave it.

What does it really matter? The sender can’t possibly know that he reblogged it with him in mind. Nico shuts his laptop and heads off to school.

_Only one more Friday left until break. I assume, anyway, that your school doesn’t have some weird policy regarding this break where you have to go on Monday or something ridiculous like that._

_Five days. You can totally make it._

Nico relaxes once he reads the message. If the sender saw his post that morning, he’s not going to comment on it. The guy probably didn’t even see it.

**December 13**

Nico rolls over in bed, squinting at his clock to see that it’s nine in the morning. A picture frame catches his eye, him and Bianca standing in front of the Lincoln Memorial.

The date hits Nico like a train. It’s been a year since he saw his sister last. A year since she went out to a party. A year since another driver missed a stop-sign and didn’t even have time to hit the brakes.

Nico pushes the picture frame away and pulls the blankets back over his head. The tears stream down his cheeks and he curls in on himself.

Maybe it will be all right if he just doesn’t get out of bed today.

Eventually the need to use the bathroom drives Nico out of the warmth and comfort of his bed. The house is quiet as he heads down to the kitchen to find something to eat.

In the end he pulls out a pint of chocolate ice cream and drops himself down on the couch. Nothing seems appealing so he ends up settling on M*A*S*H reruns.

Nico’s dad arrives home just a bit after dark. Nico can hear the clang of his keys where he drops them on the table. His dad walks through and leans on the back of the couch. “Do you want to go see her with me?” he asks.

Nico shakes his head. He doesn’t know where Bianca is but that cold and dark gravestone isn’t it. “I’m okay.”

“If you’re sure.” His dad disappears back into the kitchen. A few minutes later there’s the jangle of keys and the shut of the door again.

Nico goes to bed before he comes back, climbing beneath the covers. They’re cold from his absence and he shivers.

He doesn’t sleep, listening for the sounds of his dad’s return. Once they come and he’s able to relax, Nico can’t stop thinking about the police officer coming to their door to tell them that Bianca was in an accident.

That she was dead.

Nico rolls over, reaching for his laptop. He shoves in his earbuds and puts on his playlist, turning the volume up as high as it will go. When staring at the blank screen ceases to be enough of a distraction, he opens Tumblr.

_I don’t want you to think I’m stalking you or anything but I just want to say I’m sorry. I saw your post from a year ago about your sister being gone. It’s so hard when you lose someone that you love. I wish that I could wrap you up in a blanket and hand you a cup of hot chocolate and make sure that all of your favorite movies are playing on TV. I wish that I could give you a thousand hugs, though I’m not sure if you would like that. I’m thinking of you. I hope that you’re…well, as okay as you can be. If you need someone to talk to, just post. I’ll listen._

Nico smiles at the message, tears streaming again. He’s never been one for physical affection, but a hug wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world right now.

Nico puts his laptop aside, rolls over, and closes his eyes.

**December 14**

Nico feels a little better when he rolls himself out of bed the next morning. It’s bright and sunny outside, the house silent with his dad’s absence.

_Good morning. I hope you’re doing okay today. If not, this might help._

Nico hesitantly clicks the link and snorts when it comes up with a video compilation. Two hours of Whose Line is it Anyway clips.

He goes to close out, but shrugs and puts in his earbuds. It’s Sunday morning and what else is there to do. It isn’t long before he’s laughing so hard he can’t breathe.

When his dad comes home and checks to make sure he’s not dying, Nico pulls out his headphones and they watch the last few minutes of the video together. If Nico didn’t know any better, he’d swear he even heard his dad chuckle at a few of the jokes.

**December 15**

Monday rolls back around just like it always does and Nico regretfully drags himself out of bed.

Just one more week. Five days. Forty hours at school. He can totally do this.

Nico isn’t so sure when chemistry rolls around and his teacher reminds them that they have a test on Friday. What kind of person gives a test the last day before break? He resists the urge to drop his head to his desk. Chemistry is definitely his worst subject.

At lunch, Nico gets on Tumblr and posts: _Chemistry test the last day before break. Can it just be Saturday now?_

He checks for messages but there isn’t anything. Nico thinks inexplicably of Bianca and a bolt of anxiety jets through him. Something could happen to the mystery sender—or any of his online friends—and he might never know.

Nico forces breath into his lungs. The guy is probably just late with his usual message. It’s only noon. There’s plenty of time.

His worries turn out to be unfounded in the end. By the time he arrives home and hops online, there’s a bright red “1.”

_What kind of person gives an exam on the last day before break? Isn’t that when parties are supposed to be? Though, to be fair, I have a couple tests that day myself. I’m a fair hand at chemistry. What’s the test on?_

Nico posts the message for the first time and answers: _Stoichiometry. I don’t even know where to begin._

It takes multiple messages—and a couple video clips—but by the end Nico feels like he might actually understand. The sender has a way of explaining things that’s different from his teacher but makes a whole lot more sense. Like he knows exactly what Nico needs to hear to understand, even though they’ve never met.

**December 16**

_Always glad to be able to help. I help tutor chemistry sometimes and I find it helps to be able to explain things multiple ways. I just told you the way I like to learn things. I’m glad it works for you, too._

_Nine more days until Christmas! Are you excited? I am. No school, lots of food, lots of family, some presents. It’s a good time._

Nico shifts uneasily at the dining room table, bowl of cereal on one side and laptop on the other. He used to be a big fan of Christmas when he was a kid, when his mother would put out the Christmas decorations and the whole house would smell like sugar cookies. He and Bianca would wake up early and run down the stairs to get a good look at the presents.

When his mom died, Bianca tried to take over the traditions. She got out the decorations and convinced Nico to help her put them up. She made sugar cookies that never tasted the same as Mom’s. She came down to Nico’s room in the morning and jumped on his bed until he woke up.

It wasn’t the same but it was still good.

Now that Bianca is gone, though…Nico doesn’t have the heart to take up the mantle. The Christmas decorations stay in a box in the attic. The presents get stacked in the corner, wrapped haphazardly. Last year they didn’t even open them until the day after, because his dad’s work called him away from home. Nico didn’t even bother being mad.

Nico misses those Christmases with an ache deep in his bones. He pushes the thought aside, puts his cereal bowl in the sink, and goes to school.

**December 17**

The message on Wednesday consists of a single link to a commercial about a camel excited about “hump day.” Nico’s not really sure what to do with that but it does make him laugh.

He answers a question in chemistry and sees the flash of surprise in his teacher’s eyes. He’s not one for putting himself out there in class but this time he knows that he’s right.

For once, Nico feels pretty good about the test.

**December 18**

Thursday dawns with a brushing of snow, like powdered sugar. The flurries are still coming down when Nico steps outside. He glances around to make sure no one is watching and then sticks out his tongue, catching a couple of flakes.

He misses Maine winters, thick with snow and cold. He misses the evenings cuddled up in front of the fireplace with a cup of hot chocolate. There’s no fireplace here and the hot chocolate never tastes the same.

Maybe it’ll be a white Christmas this year. He doesn’t hold out much hope.

Class passes quickly and by the time Nico leaves school there’s enough snow that he can hear it crunching beneath his shoes. Back home he gathers up enough to make a proper snowball and throws it against the house, watching it shatter.

He tries not to think about the last snowball fight he had, only ending when both he and Bianca were soaked and shivering.

Nico doesn’t bother to check his messages until he’s getting ready for bed. The sender will be at the hospital. Knowing just that little sliver of his schedule makes something warm bloom in Nico’s chest.

_I saw snow on the way to the hospital this morning. SNOW. There’s something wrong about that. Of course it melted as soon as it hit the ground and turned to rain by noon._

_The hospital had me handing out candy canes to all the kids today. It’s amazing how a little piece of candy can make their faces light up. It’s the most precious thing. I’d send you one, if that was a part of this whole thing._

Nico wrinkles his nose. Candy canes were always more of Bianca’s thing. Still, it wouldn’t be a total let-down to open the mailbox and see that wrapped piece of candy if he knew it was from the sender.

They might not be delicious but they do kind of make cool decorations.

**December 19**

_It’s Friday! Last school day of the year! We’ve made it!_

Nico’s pretty psyched about break starting in eight hours but he still thinks that number of exclamation points is a little excessive.

_Good luck on your test today. I know that you’re going to rock it._

Nico does. The usual sick feeling of having no idea what any of it means is absent as he sits down at his desk with the test. His pencil flies across the page and it isn’t long before he’s flipping over the final page.

His teacher smiles at him as he turns it in and goes back to his desk. She’s already grading someone else’s paper and Nico tries not to spend the rest of class staring at her wondering if she’s gotten to his test yet.

When the bell rings, he stops in front of her desk. “Have you graded mine yet?”

“Nico di Angelo.” She flips through the stack until she hits his name. “There you are.”

A giant “93” is written at the top. Nico’s whole face splits into a grin as he hands the test back to her. There’s a new spring in his step as he goes to his next class. Only a couple more hours to go.

The moment Nico gets home, he posts: _Mission Pass Chemistry Test is a success. 93 percent._

Multiple people like it. Nico can’t resist going to each of their blogs, but none of them seem like the sender. He just doesn’t get the right vibe.

And he doesn’t get the same butterflies that he does when he reads, _Congratulations. I knew that you could do it._

**December 20**

_It’s Saturday and there’s only five more days until Christmas. I don’t know about you but my break is off to a great start. I ate like six sugar cookies for breakfast (shh don’t tell my mom) and now I’m sitting here watching some ridiculous Christmas movie on Hallmark. Definitely beats being in school, not that I would be right now anyway since it’s Saturday and all._

Nico smiles as he pushes his laptop aside and climbs out of bed. He makes French toast for breakfast and then drops himself down on the couch.

Channel flipping lands him on the Hallmark channel. He tells himself there’s nothing else on, but the truth is he gets a strange thrill out of knowing he’s watching the same thing as the sender, even if they’re not in the same room.

**December 21**

As much as Nico enjoys the alternative to being in school, he has to admit that break is kind of boring.

No homework to do, nothing on TV, and even Tumblr loses its allure extremely quickly. He posts, _This is boring,_ checks for messages, and closes out of the window.

It’s only when Nico’s firing up the PS4 that he realizes that he still hasn’t gotten his dad anything for Christmas. Bianca was always the one who knew what to get people. Nico just paid for half and took her word for it when she said that they’d love whatever it is she’d picked out.

 _I have no idea what to get my dad for Christmas. Help,_ Nico posts though he really doesn’t expect a response.

Tools and a hat are among the suggestions that people offer. An anon suggests “A gun” and Nico is positive it’s not the sender. It isn’t until Nico is getting ready to leave that the message he really wants arrives.

 _Something from the heart is always good._ Oh, great, the sender is probably just as good at gift-giving as Bianca. _I’m guessing he’s not the “World’s Best Dad” mug type or you’d already have his present. How about something decorative? Clothes? Or something that he’s mentioned needing? If all else fails, gift cards are always a solid choice._

Nico sighs and throws on his jacket, grabbing his wallet from off the nightstand. He doesn’t really want to go to the gift card route but if he has to then he will.

After a couple hours of wandering around the mall, Nico hasn’t managed to get anything other than “Santa Baby” stuck in his head. He hates that song.

He really doesn’t want to come back, so in the end he settles on a thermos—his dad has been complaining lately about not having anything to put his coffee in on the way to work—and a picture frame. He still has a few shots of him and Bianca. Maybe he can put one of the duplicates in it.

Snow is falling outside and Nico smiles at the fluffy flakes. _It’s beginning to feel a lot like Christmas…_

**December 22**

_I hope that you figured out what to get your dad for Christmas. I’m sure that whatever it is, he’ll love it._

Nico smiles and glances at the plastic bags in the corner. He should probably get wrapping, even if it’s just to give himself something to do.

He digs out an old tube of scarlet wrapping paper from a closet and stretches it out across his bed. The picture frame is easy—once he decides on a shot of himself and Bianca pretending to lean on either side of the Tower of Pisa. It’s a one-in-a-million perfect photograph, Nico scowling and pretending to try to push the Tower over on Bianca whose face is bright with laughter.

He smiles down at it for a few minutes and then wraps the frame. The thermos proves to be a bit more of a challenge. The handle keeps getting in the way and ripping the paper.

Nico finally snarls and tapes scraps of paper over the rips. It’s not like he’s entering it in some sort of “wrapping contest.” It’s just his dad.

When he’s done, Nico decides to go out for a walk. He just wants to get out of the house. It’s a sunny day, a bit cold, but nothing his jacket can’t handle.

He walks until he catches the scent of coffee on the air. Caffeine doesn’t seem appealing but hot chocolate wouldn’t be too bad. Nico pushes his way through the door of the coffee shop.

Percy’s standing at the counter, one latte already in his hands. He waves at Nico as he passes by and orders the largest hot chocolate he can.

“How’s break going?” Percy asks when they stand next to each other waiting.

Nico shrugs. “It’s fine. Pretty boring, actually. How’s yours?”

A second latte slides over the counter. Percy snatches it up but he doesn’t leave. Normally that would leave Nico in a tangled mess of butterflies but this time…nothing. “It’s great to not have to be at school, but I know what you mean. Feels weird not to be busy. Have a good Christmas.”

“Yeah, you too,” Nico says as Percy walks out the door. For once it doesn’t feel like he’s taking Nico’s heart with him. He tries not to read too much into that as he grabs his hot chocolate and heads back out.

**December 23**

Nico rolls out of bed with an inexplicable urge to do _something._ He makes breakfast, cleans the kitchen, cleans his room, and then just goes on with the rest of the house. By lunch his dad still hasn’t returned from work and Nico settles down with his laptop while he eats a sandwich.

_Happy Christmas Eve Eve. Yes, I really am that corny. You know you like it. At least I hope you do. Maybe you’re just deleting all of these messages and rolling your eyes at me._

_Oh well. Only a couple more days until the big reveal. Anyway, I hope you’re having a good day. I’m going to be singing Christmas carols at the hospital all day. It’s a lot of fun but last year I managed to lose my voice. The kids enjoy it so it’s worth it._

By lunch his dad still hasn’t returned from work and Nico finds himself outside of the storage closet.

He drags the fake Christmas tree out first, bringing it down to the living room. The branches scratch at his hands but Nico ignores the pain and within an hour he has the whole thing set up. The lights go on next, a simple white, followed by red garland. Finally the ornaments, a number of gold and silver bulbs and a few that Nico and Bianca had made when they were younger.

Nico’s dad shows up just before dinner time and smiles when he sees the tree. “You’ve been busy today,” he says.

“Yeah.” Nico stares up at the tree. “It seemed right.”

“I’m going to make dinner. Want anything in particular?”

Nico shakes his head. “Whatever you want.” There’s still one thing missing. He dashes up the stairs and retrieves his dad’s presents from his room, planting them beneath the tree.

Perfect.

**December 24**

By morning two more presents have appeared underneath the tree. Nico stares at them while he eats breakfast—scrambled eggs and sausage—alone. He knows his dad is home because the car is still in the driveway. There’s an extra plate sitting in the microwave to keep warm.

It’s probably still cold by the time Nico’s dad comes downstairs but he just hits the numbers on the microwave and smiles gratefully in Nico’s direction.

At noon there’s a message from the sender: _12, I lost my voice yesterday._

Nico smiles, thinking about the faceless boy who sings Christmas carols for kids in the hospital. He’s sure they loved it.

He’s on the couch, watching old Christmas specials when the next one arrives.

_11, I drank a cup of tea and now my voice is back. I’m not a big fan of tea but it seems to have done the job. Merry Christmas Eve, by the way. Don’t think I said that last time._

At some point Nico’s dad joins him in the living room and they laugh through _Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer._ It’s so much like old times that Nico reaches over the back of his couch like he’s going to drape his arm around Bianca.

_10, I think my mom’s trying to set a record for Christmas pies. Send help. Also if you can’t tell I’m counting down to midnight._

Nico had figured out the timing of the messages with the number of hours left in the day. The confirmation sends his head whirling. Less than a day before he finds out who the mysterious sender is.

After days of suspense, Nico almost doesn’t want to know. He’s too afraid that it’ll ruin everything.

_9, I know that it’s tough to go through a holiday when you’ve lost someone. Everything reminds you of them and the fact that they’re not there with you. It’s okay to let yourself miss them and it’s okay to let yourself move on._

Nico stares at the message, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes. If he didn’t know any better, he’d swear that the sender is someone he knows. He might as well just crawl inside Nico’s head with the perfect timing.

_8, -sings “White Christmas”- I hear that we’re supposed to get snow tonight. I’m so excited. I haven’t seen snow on Christmas in four years._

Nico’s dad leaves to get Christmas dinner started once the next special is over. Nico follows behind a few minutes later, humming under his breath. There’s a turkey breast to get in the oven and potatoes to put on the stove. Store-bought apple pie to remove from the box and display on the counter like they just pulled it out of the oven.

Nico is starting to sweat by the time he gets a break.

_7, I accidentally squished my fingers with the rolling pin. Don’t ask how. At least my mom took it away from me and kicked me out of the kitchen. That’s a definite plus._

_6, My aunts just realized that this is my last Christmas as a high school student and now they’re all reminiscing and talking about how they can’t believe I’m so grown up. Why does this happen to me?_

Nico chuckles, glad for once that he doesn’t have much of an immediate family. If his dad can’t believe that he’s graduating from high school in another semester, he doesn’t talk about it.

Nico plunges back into the kitchen, mashing the potatoes and mixing in milk and butter. His mouth waters as he stirs it all together.

“Another twenty minutes on the turkey,” his dad says and Nico nods in response. He puts another pan on the stove and pours in a can of corn.

Dinner is a relatively quiet affair, but it’s rather nice the two of them sitting together at the table. Nico talks a bit about school, about his college applications, and his dad tries to talk about work without being depressing.

It doesn’t go very well but Nico knows he tries.

When they’re done, there are leftovers to put away in the fridge and pans to rinse for the dishwasher. Nico makes hot chocolate in the microwave while his dad finishes up and then pours them both a mug.

Snow drifts past the window as they snuggle up in the living room. _The Year Without a Santa Claus_ is playing.

_5, We’re taking a break before dessert. There’s a Dutch apple pie with my name on it. My brother made my aunt do a spit take at dinner. It was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. I can’t remember the joke but suffice to say it was hilarious._

Between Christmas specials, Nico’s dad disappears back into the kitchen and returns with two pieces of apple pie. If Nico closes his eyes, he can pretend that he’s at the sender’s house.

Except the pie isn’t homemade so the guy’s pie is probably a whole lot better. Not that his piece is bad. The origin of the pie doesn’t stop Nico from going for seconds.

_4, Things are starting to wind down here. In case you’re wondering, my family always does our huge thing on Christmas Eve and then we split up for Christmas Day and have our private celebrations._

Nico glances at his dad and smiles. He often had to work on the holiday so they would celebrate on whichever day was the most convenient. It wasn’t an ideal system but it worked for them.

Nico curls up on the couch and lets his eyes fall closed. He wakes again to find a blanket draped around himself and his dad nowhere to be seen.

He glances at his watch and sits up quickly. Five minutes to midnight. He scrambles for his laptop but there are only three messages.

_3, There are three packages underneath the tree for me. One of them is small. I wonder if they’re car keys. I suppose it could also be a gift card, but I’m leaning more toward the keys myself. If I stare at them long enough do you think they’ll just pop open on their own?_

_2, It’s been an hour and it’s still not working._

_1, Only one more hour until I have to reveal myself to you. Not like that. That’s creepy. I don’t know why I’m nervous but I am._

Nico stares at the last sentence. The sender is nervous about telling him who he is? Nico knows that he’s nervous to know but he probably has feelings for the guy.

The guy already knows him, it shouldn’t matter that now Nico will be on the same page.

He hopes that the fact that the sender is nervous means what he thinks it does.

Nico repeatedly hits refresh through the last minute of Christmas Eve even though that doesn’t really do anything. Finally— _finally—_ a new message appears.

It’s not on anon.

Nico holds his breath. _Doctorapollo._ That’s the guy that’s been messaging him all this time.

Wait, he is a guy, right?

Nico clicks through to his blog and lets out a sigh of relief. Eighteen. Male. Gay.

_Gay._

Nico tries not to read too much into that as he goes back to his messages.

_Well now you know who I am and that’s that, I suppose. This is my last message for the Secret Santa, though if you want to keep talking I’d be okay with that. More than okay with that. Merry Christmas, angel._

Nico hurries to open up a message of his own. _Merry Christmas to you, too. It’s nice to actually meet you. Kind of. I’m Nico._

Nico can’t help the smile that breaks across his face at the reply: _Will._


End file.
